


Oncoming Storms

by inkykeys



Series: Sokovia Burning [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fire, Gen, Non-Graphic Violence, Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Protectiveness, Protests, Riots, Siblings, protective pietro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 22:31:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7549792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkykeys/pseuds/inkykeys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before he was fast and she was weird...<br/>Maximoff twins protest corrupt government spending and get caught up in a riot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oncoming Storms

The sky was a dark and violent blue, almost as if it couldn’t decide whether or not to rain. Pietro looked up at the gathering clouds, frowning as the wind tossed his hair into his eyes.

“Are you cold?” He turned his worries at his sister, moving slowly behind him.

She rubbed her arms, trying, and failing, to hide a shiver. Her coat wasn’t thick enough to block the cold, her tights were always ripped, and her dresses worn thin. “I will be alright.” She tugged at the busted zipper, willing it to move again.

“Here,” Pietro said, starting to undo the buttons on his coat, “you can borrow mine.”

“No.” Wanda said back, her voice stern. “I said I will be alright. I do not want you to freeze for me.” He huffed as he redid the buttons. “Let’s just get there, yes? It will be warmer with the crowds.”

Pietro knew there was no point arguing with his sister; she was stubborn and would always get her way. Instead, he shut his mouth and reached for her hand. He held tight to her cold fingers as he weaved the two of them through the twisting streets and growing crowd.

Having finally squeezed through the bottleneck of people, they stopped to catch a breath at the entrance of the usually busy town square. On any other day, the dilapidated plaza would be bustling with the squawk of vendors selling their wares, the cries of dirty children running about, and the shuffle of the increasingly more and more homeless. Instead, today they were all cleared out, replacing themselves as the angry mass of those who’ve been wronged.

Since the discovery that HYDRA had been growing inside SHIELD, the Sokovian government had called for screenings of every government employee. In doing so, they suctioned funding for social services and infrastructure. Sokovia was one of the poorest countries in Europe, and one with one of the most corrupt governments, there wasn’t enough resources for such an operation. Pietro and Wanda had always suffered, being essentially homeless since the death of their parents, but even those who had lived fairly comfortable lives had dropped down into poverty.

Many of them were here today, gathered into the angry crowds that Pietro was itching to join. He and Wanda never brought anything to the rallies, save their voices, fists, and the burning hatred inside their hearts. Despite this, or maybe because of, they insisted on being at the very front. Pietro squeezed his sister’s fingers, willing them to be warmer, before pulling her along with him to the fence that separated the protesters from the police.

The wind blew cold and again Pietro worried about his sister. The crowd at their backs provided some protection from the winds that were increasingly picking up, whipping hair and the makeshift flags that flew over the burgeoning cries for justice, carrying the noise to the governing villains in the high building that the crowd had gathered outside.

The corrupt lawmen were visible through a wide window. Dressed in their neatly pressed suits, they stood around a table, no doubt finding creative ways to siphon money away from the people.

“When did the people approve of this?!” Wanda spat at an officer dressed in black. He made no indication that she had said anything.

“The people are starving!” Pietro hollered at the same man, shoving at the barrier between them.

“Killing one snake will not make a difference in the snake pit!” The caustic outcries blended together into an enraged cacophony.

\----

Frustrated with hours of protest to no avail, the crowd began to search out other ways to make their statement. Pietro’s throat burned; he was sick of standing in the cold, screaming till his voice raw, while the guards were so placid. He looked at Wanda, her hands balled into fists as she pounded the barrier and shouted. The wind whipped her hair about, swirling her into a typhoon of rage. He looked up to the sky again, dark clouds churned, threatening more than rain.

A shove at his back pushed him forward into the fencing, and without a second thought, he pushed himself up and over it.

The guards immediately moved to surround him, the first sign of life they had shown since the twins had arrived. Almost instinctively, he lashed out with his fist, slamming it into what he hoped was a face. The pain in his hand was quickly forgotten as fighting broke out around him. Others poured over the barrier and the guards took to beating them away.

Through the clamor of shouts and hits, Pietro noticed a guard that was distracted by something in the distance. Turning to look in the direction the guard had, he found a pillar of smoke and flame. A car was dented and smoldering: the windows busted and flames pouring out. The people of Sokovia wanted recognition, and they would get it by any means necessary.

As the violence before the steps increased, the flames spread. First, just the car, then the flags of the rebellious, then the cheap wood of the vendor’s stands were all engulfed in flames. The brisk wind whisked the flames into high pillars, feeding them, spreading their destruction across the square.

Screams of anger turned into shrieks of fear. People rushed towards the narrow streets to escape the flames, but the crash of crowds only caused disarray. Pietro dodged the frantic elbows of those around him, reaching out towards his sister. “We have to get out of here!” He shouted to her, hoping his voice would be heard over the discordance.

“We can’t!” She shook her head, “Nothing has been accomplished!” Anger and fear churned in Pietro’s gut; he knew Wanda wouldn’t easily forgive him if they left, but he couldn’t risk her getting hurt. But a resentful sister is better than a dead sister, and Pietro wasn’t going to ever watch his sister die. He grabbed her hand and pulled himself towards her, but just as he was deciding what to do next, the skies opened up.

The rain pounded the earth in sheets, quickly dousing the fires as well as the vigor and panic left in the protesters. The red of flames, of anger, of fear and blood, were washed away with the grey of the clouds, of the rain and sullenness.

The balm of the rain didn’t come fast enough, though. Pietro looked up to find that the lawmen had left; there was no one left to listen to them. Disappointment flowed in his veins, but he knew there would be other opportunities for change. He pulled Wanda’s hand again, gently leading her away from the slowly dissipating crowd.

The slosh of rain filled the streets. Water ran down drainpipes and in puddled in grooves in the cobblestone. Each raindrop was like ice: peppering their skin and soaking their bones. Pietro’s feet were soaked, and he knew that Wanda’s old boots wouldn’t have kept the water out for long. Again she shivered as the frigid water splashed on her skin.

Pietro did talk this time as he unbuttoned the fastens on his coat. Quickly, he removed the article and draped it over his twin sister’s drenched form. She shrugged in protest, but he gave her a stern look and she grudgingly accepted.

**Author's Note:**

> Second part of my Maximoff twins backstory series. Hope I did okay with my descriptions of everything! I've never been in a protest of any kind.


End file.
